


confessions of the bench

by ohtempora



Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Toronto Blue Jays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-04 00:58:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17294648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohtempora/pseuds/ohtempora
Summary: Luke's spent hours going over game tape with him in one of the back rooms of the stadium. Luke doesn't like him all that much. Luke views him as competition. Danny splits the difference between it all and kisses him in the dark shadow of a bar twenty minutes from closing."You sure you know what you're doing?" Luke asks.Danny swallows. "No," he says.





	confessions of the bench

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ewidentnie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ewidentnie/gifts).



> HAPPY NEW YEAR EWIDENTNIE <3 
> 
> thank you to e. for looking this over!

On Chippewa Street in Buffalo, Danny makes a bad decision and kisses his teammate. 

It's summer, it's hot and humid, it's all the descriptive words you use for upstate New York in weather like this. He's tipsy off cheap beer after a good team win. Luke's spent hours so far going over game tape with him in one of the back rooms of the stadium, brushing up against him every time he reached over Danny's lap to pause the video player. Luke's got big league experience with two separate teams. Luke also doesn't like him all that much. Luke views him as competition. Danny splits the difference between it all and kisses him in the dark shadow of a bar twenty minutes from closing.

"You sure you know what you're doing?" Luke asks. The light is playing across his face, throwing his cheekbones into sharp relief.

Danny swallows. "No," he says.

"Figures." Luke's sizing him up, similar to how he did when they first met a few days ago, Luke down for a rehab assignment and Danny’s just here. Working, waiting. It's uncomfortably like scout evaluation, even if it's different stakes. 

Luke waits another minute, and then he says, "Alright," and he says, "Not here."

He's in Buffalo on a rehab assignment, put up in a hotel within walking distance of the ballpark. They call a cab and head back. Luke looks out the window the whole short ride, and Danny looks at him. His hair is black in the nighttime light, and his eyes look black too. 

They get to Luke’s hotel, which is nice enough for a place the team’s putting him up. Go up to Luke’s room. Danny sits on the bed when Luke gestures for him to do so and kicks his shoes off, watches Luke takes his own off and line them up neatly by the door.

Luke gets on his knees fast, pulling Danny forward from the end of the bed. He taps Danny's knee so that he raises his hips, so Luke can drag his jeans and underwear down in one smooth motion. Luke's not trying to be sexy, not trying to take it slow, just being efficient. He's done this before, Danny realizes, with another teammate. This is a dance Luke knows the moves to. Maybe he fucked one of the Jays, maybe someone back on the Rays, but nothing about this is unfamiliar to him. He tongues the head of Danny's dick and Danny yelps.

"You can put your hand in my hair if you want," Luke tells him, and dips his head down again.

Danny does it. Luke's hair is soft under his hands. He wonders when he lost control of this whole situation, if he ever had it at all. The muscles in his thighs are taut and Luke's eyelashes are as dark as his hair is. Danny's already so hard, can barely restrain himself from fucking up into Luke's mouth, like he's some kid who's never gotten a blowjob before. Luke has a heavy arm braced against him, and honestly, Danny needs the reminder.

He does tug at Luke's hair, though, and make noise when Luke takes him in almost to the base of his dick, lips slipping down in one long slide. He didn't know Luke could do that. 

Luke settles into a rhythm, and Danny sighs, closes his eyes, keeps his hands in Luke's hair. He doesn't know how long he lasts, but it's got to be shorter than he likes when Luke pulls off his dick with a pop and starts to jerk him. He's wet, spit and precome, and Luke works him steadily until Danny's coming all over Luke's hand and his own stomach. 

"Hey, Jansen," Luke says, and he swipes his fingers through the come splattered across Danny's skin and sticks them in Danny's mouth.

"Fuck," Danny says around Luke's fingers, or tries to, tastes salt under his tongue. Luke stands up. They're the same height, but he's looming, filling Danny's field of vision with his big frame. Danny says, "Um, do you - want."

"Got an idea," Luke tells him, and shoves him back until he's flat on the mattress. Danny lands with an 'oof,' catches his breath while Luke strips in front of him, revealing where his baseball tan turns into pale skin. Luke straddles him. "You think you can go again?"

The beer's wearing off. It was only ever enough to make him bold. "I guess, yeah," Danny says.

Luke leans down and kisses him. His mouth tastes like dick and come, but who cares. Danny kisses him back, long and luxurious, pretends for a minute that Luke's doing this because - god, because Luke likes him as a person, thinks he's hot, doesn't eye him jealously when he thinks Danny isn't looking. Luke's rehabbing. Danny's the one fighting his way up, top fucking prospect status be damned. The kisses get softer, somehow even slower, and Danny keeps his eyes closed. 

He’s not hard yet, but he’s not so oversensitive that it doesn’t feel good when Luke lines himself up, wraps a hand around both of them. “Like this,” he says, and Danny looks up at him and nods. Luke jerks them both off, moving against him, big tanned hand covering Danny’s dick. He comes first, and Danny follows him over the edge, making a mess of them both.

They end up in the shower together, don’t mess around there. Exhaustion hits Danny hard - a game and then two orgasms - and he wishes he knew Luke well enough to ask if he could stay.

He doesn’t know Luke much at all. He stumbles home, pushing damp hair out of his face, a little sore, a lot tired. He goes to sleep. 

Here’s what happens: The next morning they both get to the ballpark early. Luke looks normal, except for the ghost of a bruise at the base of his throat that Danny remembers leaving, mouth latched on when Luke was on top of him. 

“G’morning,” Luke says to him, voice pretty flat, and that’s normal too. “Video room’s free, if you want.”

“Game calling again?”

“Yeah.” Luke’s got a water bottle full of protein shake dangling from his hand, and he takes a swig from it as they start walking. “Got tape from earlier in the year.”

“Sure,” Danny says. Coach probably asked Luke to do it again, and he said yes. “You picked a game?”

“One of Marco’s starts.” Estrada’s a free agent after next year, who knows if Danny will be up in time to catch him, but whatever Luke picks is fine by him.

The video room is chilly, air conditioner loudly buzzing as it works overtime. Luke scrounges up a tablet and sets it up. They have to sit close together for both of them to see, and Danny’s so  _ aware  _ of Luke. Every inhale and exhale, every shift of his arm or twitch of his leg. Luke’s murmuring commentary to him, pointing out what Estrada’s throwing, why the game plan was a certain way. Danny’s paying attention, he swears.

“You’re not paying attention,” Luke says. “What did I just say?”

“Um.” Danny bites his lip. “That’s a. Curveball?”

“You don’t sound sure of that.” Luke’s voice is dry. “Also, it was a fastball.”

“Right.” 

“If you’re not gonna pay attention—”

“No, just.” Danny touches him, puts his hand on Luke’s knee. Luke’s wearing athletic shorts and his bare knee is exposed. Too late, Danny remembers it’s the sore one, and he snatches his hand back. “I’m distracted. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not trying to distract you,” Luke murmurs, and pauses the video to drink some more of his protein shake. He stretches his leg out carefully and winces, small enough that Danny almost misses it. “Here. See his hand? Thought he was tipping his pitches.”

Danny inhales. Luke smells like his deodorant and sweat and sun-warmed skin. He exhales and pushes his glasses up his nose, squints at the screen.

They play a game, win a game. Play a game, lose a game. They’re about to finish up the homestand and then it’s back on the bus. He’s not going to miss all the bus rides in the minors. Big motivation towards making the show: better accommodations, better glory, better pay.

He goes back with Luke again, back to the hotel, with its beige walls that seem to press in the longer Danny stares at them. He can’t take Luke back to his house - he’s got roommates who are teammates, they’d have questions, and Danny has nothing for them in the way of answers.

This time they fuck, Luke opening himself up while Danny watches him with eyes wide behind his glasses. Luke goes on his back, mindful of his knee, and Danny rocks into him, looking down almost the entire time at the place where they’re joined. 

It’s good, being allowed this. 

Danny’s struck by the little pieces he’s picked up about Luke after only a few days together. What he sounds like when he comes, that’s one thing, but - what he looks like when he’s focused, the exact tone of his voice when he’s trying to instruct. The angle he holds his hand when he’s pointing out a detail Danny missed. His slight wince of pain when his knee tweaks the wrong way. 

They win a game. It happens once more, fucking Luke, getting kicked out. 

Soon enough the homestand ends, and everyone prepares to go off to Lehigh Valley. Rumors are flying around the team that Vlad Jr. will be called up, but Danny has his doubts.

He’s at the park to grab some stuff out of his locker when he catches Luke walking out of their manager’s office, face lined with less taut misery than Danny’s seen in him all week. “You got news?”

“Going back up,” Luke says. “Rehab stint’s officially over, I’m all checked out by the trainers, everything. Guess I’ll play in some games.”

“Oh.” Danny swallows. He should have figured— well, he knew it’d happen. Rehab assignments can only last so long. It’s only been a few days. No time at all, in the scheme of the baseball season. “So like, Toronto.”

“That’s who we play for, yeah.” Luke frowns at him. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Danny’s tongue feels thick in his mouth, his words clumsy and heavy. He shoves at his glasses so they stop sliding down his nose. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

“I’m feeling good enough.” Luke looks down, where there’s ice wrapped around his knee. “Good enough for this point in the season.”

Danny gets that. Everyone is banged up. “You flying out to meet them?”

“They sent a ticket and I’m mostly ready, so.” 

“Cool, cool.” He waits a second longer, but - to Luke this is good news. Luke’s the backup catcher for the Jays, not splitting time with Danny down here in Triple-A in Buffalo. Luke’s where Danny wants to be in a year. Luke’s gotta head to Toronto and back up Russell Martin. Danny’s mostly an idiot. “So I guess, uh. I’ll see you in spring training.”

“Sounds about right.” Luke does look at him, then. “Take care of yourself.” 

“Oh. You too, man.” Danny reaches a hand out and Luke pulls him into a loose side-hug, slaps his back a couple times. The kind of hug he gives Borucki or Reid-Foley, a hug for buddies on the team. They’re not that close, but somehow it’s not intimate enough.

“I have to pack up my shit at the hotel,” Luke says, and he steps back. Danny watches him walk down the hallway. He doesn’t know what else he’d say, so he says nothing at all. 

Here’s what happens: He finishes out the season with the Bisons. Goes home to Wisconsin and hears good things from the Jays. Reports to spring training in February with the rest of the pitchers and catchers. Luke’s there on Danny’s first day back, sitting next to Russ on the bench. Danny veers over to say hi to Reese and when they’re done catching up Luke’s wandered over to the gaggle of pitchers standing around the outfield, talking to Estrada and smiling at him all big and easy.

There’s a general meeting with the coaches, every catcher currently at camp. Danny doesn’t get a chance to say hi until after it. Luke’s winter pale but he still looks good and Danny thinks about every good decision he’s made that led him to baseball, every bad decision that led him here.

“How was Wisconsin?” Luke asks.

“Cold,” Danny says. “Snowy. The usual.” He trained a lot indoors. “You?”

“The usual,” Luke says, like Danny knows what that means. “All good with me.”

“Good. That’s awesome. Good.” Danny looks around. “Uh, I’m gonna go say hi to Sean?”

“Yeah, I gotta talk to Russ.” Luke smiles at him, a slight upward tick of his lips. “See ya when we get dragged into another meeting.”

“God, I’m sure it’ll be in an hour or two.” Danny hasn’t been doing this that long, but he knows how it goes. Luke smiles again, more acknowledgement, and heads off to find Martin. Danny wanders off towards Ryan and Sean, who are easy to talk to, melts into that crowd, until the weird tension under his eyes goes away. 

Luke makes him nervous. He doesn’t want to think about why. 

It becomes evident after the rest of the team trickles into camp that Danny will start with the Bisons and Luke will back up Russ, nothing changed from late last summer. Except - the coaches make it clear he’ll see time in the big leagues this fall, if everything goes according to plan. 

There’s two catcher spots, realistically. Maybe three, depending on injury, and Danny’s not going to wish injury on any of his teammates. He knows how this all gets handled: first the benching, then the trade or DFA to clear room. Maybe a guy gets claimed on waivers and has to pick up and move. Maybe they don’t. 

Luke finds him late after a game they both play in, home game, the crowd loud and supportive through the first five innings before going over the autograph hunt. He’s had a few people ask, especially when he was hitting at the minor-league complex. The die-hards. He isn’t the same caliber as Donaldson, or even Russ, or the big-name prospects. 

“Game tape again?” Danny asks. He can’t think of any other reason Luke would approach him. 

“Nothing we haven’t done before.” Luke follows him into the video room. There are a bunch of other guys in there, prospects even Danny doesn’t know. Maybe the non-roster invites. He’ll learn some names when they end up in bars around Clearwater and Dunedin together. “Coaches asked me to keep it up, so.”

Of course they did. And of course Luke thinks it’s his responsibility, if the coaches asked him, if Russ did this for him when he got picked up by the Jays. 

“Thanks.” Danny stretches out in a chair and stares at his knees. They’re knobby and pale and there’s hair sticking out everywhere. “Who we looking at today?”

“Whatever Coach gave me.” Luke scrolls through the iPad in his lap, pulling up a game. “Oh, AL East stuff. Makes sense.” 

There’s more space here in the spring training complex compared to Buffalo. They’re not pressed so close together. Danny has a flash of wishing they were anyway. 

Luke goes through the game, skipping through the Jays’ at-bats, periodically pausing to check in. He’s a good teacher, Danny realizes, even if he doesn’t want to be here doing this. 

“You’re paying more attention than you were before,” Luke says, once they’re done reviewing, heading out to the players’ parking lot together. It’s dusk, humidity pressing down still, but Danny can tell that the temperature’s about to drop with the sunset. “Good sign.”

He’s talking about making the team. Danny knows that. “I told you last summer, I was distracted,” he says, instead of a thank you. 

Luke stops, stares him down. “Look, what happened before was—”

“Dumb. You don’t have to like, say it. I know what I did was fucking stupid as fuck.”

“I was gonna say probably shouldn’t fly in the majors.”

“It’s spring training,” Danny says uselessly, hands outspread. “It’s not exactly—”

“It doesn’t end well.” Luke’s eyes are dark, framed by long lashes, his mouth a flat line. Danny knows what it’s like to lean in and kiss him. He closes his eyes, tries to push the thought out of his head. “Trust me on that one, man.” 

Danny’s desperate to ask. He doesn’t. “Because of the catcher thing? The roster?” He’s never acknowledged that particular competition out loud before. 

“Sure,” Luke says. “That’s one.” 

“So the other—?”

“Is that it’s a bad idea to do this in the majors.” Luke looks right at him, looks sad. “It’s bigger. You’re gonna see what I mean soon, I promise.”

They break camp. They don’t touch each other again.

Here’s what happens: Danny gets called up to the majors in August. The Jays are using Russ as a utility infielder, sticking him all over the diamond. Luke’s still there too. He hits his first career home run on August 15th at Kauffman Stadium in a win over the Royals and the boys take him out for a beer and a shot, some good Kansas City barbecue, buy him a few more drinks after that. They peel off and peel off back to the hotel until it’s him and Luke, alone on the street, standing in the shadow of some tall Midwestern building Danny’s never seen before in his life.

"Don't worry," Danny says. "I know this is a bad idea this time.” 

Luke laughs at him. He looks good, Danny thinks, not for the first time and not for the last. “You know you’re not listening to my advice, too.”

“Well, yeah.” Danny shoves a hand in his pocket. “I just figured—”

“You want me to congratulate you.”

“That’s not—” Danny starts, and then stops, because he kinda does. He wants acknowledgment from Luke: look at what you did, kid. Even if it’s gonna kick me off the active roster. You did good.

“Call a cab,” Luke says, and pushes him into the shadows before they kiss, swift and stinging, Danny’s back scratching up against the hard brick wall. “Congratulations on your first big league home run.” He slides his thigh in between Danny’s legs, makes the next kiss dirty, hands skimming over the waistband of Danny’s jeans. “You did it.”

Danny closes his eyes, thinks about last year in Buffalo, and lets himself pretend.

Here’s what happens: the Blue Jays offload Russ’s contract, eat some money and get rid of him with one year remaining. The months of trade rumors surrounding Luke begin to die down. He’s cheap. Danny’s cheap. They’ve both got spots on the roster. Luke comes up to him in spring training, the second person Danny sees when they report, and asks how he’s doing.

“You know, alright,” Danny says, continues with, “It’s good to see you.”

“Hey, good to see you too,” Luke says. “Excited for the season?”

“I am,” Danny says. “You?”

“Me too,” Luke says, smiles, and Danny can tell that every word of it is true. 


End file.
